difornia 

lonal 

Llity 


: 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


f' 

f,»'r' 


A  BOOK 

OF 

RHYMES 


A  BOOK 


OF 


RHYMES 


GRACE  CLARKE 


NEW  YORK 
MDCCCXCVII 


COPYRIGHT 

BY  GRACE  CLARKE 
MDCCCXCVII 


Privately  Printed 

The  Winthrop  Press 
Lafavette  Place.  N.  Y. 


TO 
MY  FATHER 


O*f-. 


WHAT  have  we  here  ;  a  book  of  rhymes  ? 
I  wonder  how  the  book  will  fare. 
Who  has  not  said,  a  score  of  times, 
"  What  have  we  here,  a  book  of  rhymes  ; 
A  little  peal  of  tinkling  chimes  ?  ' 

(How  much  these  rhymsters  make  us  bear.) 
What  have  we  here  ;  a  book  of  rhymes  ? 
I  wonder  how  the  book  will  fare. 


CONTENTS 

WHAT  HAVE  WE  HERE,  A  BOOK  OF  RHYMES  5 

JAPANESE  LOVE  SONG  9 

ONLY  10 

GRANDMAMA'S  GIRLISH  GOWNS  1 1 

To  ROBERT  HERRICK  12 

THE  ANGLER  -  13 

CONTRADICTION      -  14 

THE  RHYMSTER  15 

CLAIRE     -  16 

CAPRICE                      -  f  17 

AQUATIC  COURTSHIP  18 

ST.  AUGUSTINE  19 

Two  SONGS  -     21 

IN  SLIPPERS  SMALL     -  22 

WHERE  THE  CLOVER  BLOSSOMS  BLOW  -     23 

EFFORT  24 

ARTLESS  ART  -     25 

THE  BRIDE  OF  THE  CHINESE  PRINCE     -  26 

PEGASUS  IN  HARNESS  -     27 

A  POET          ------  29 


MY  LADY'S  FAN  31 

AN  IMPERFECT  NOTE  32 

A  SPANISH  IDYL    -  33 

ST.  CUPID  34 

WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME  35 

THE  ADVOCATE  37 

To  F.  E.  C.  38 

THE  FAIR  BLOSSOM     -  39 

THE  LITTLE  RHYMSTER  40 

A  RECOLLECTION  41 

To  PHYLLIS  42 

AURORA  43 

ONE  SUMMER  DAY  44 

THE  CHOICE  OF  PHYLLIS  LEE                                                     45 

LOVE'S  ROSE  46 

r 

JEFFERSON  AT  MONTICELLO  47 


JAPANESE  LOVE  SONG 

r 

A  MOON-RAY  bright  glides*from  above 
To  kiss  the  peach  blossom,  his  love, 
And  sweet  from  her  fragrant  lips 

He  slips 
Into  the  chamber  of  my  dove. 

My  sleeping  dove,  with  the  almond  eyes  ! 
Across  her  smiling  mouth  he  flies 
Leaving  a  track  of  silver  there 

To  bear 
Witness  of  the  captured  prize. 

Still  speeding  on,  the  naughty  thief, 
To  her  ear  with  boldness  past  belief, 
And  murmurs  in  that  pearly  shell 

To  tell 
Of  both  the  kisses,  sweet  and  brief. 

Great  Buddha !  grant  this  boon,  I  pray, 
Let  me  become  a  bright  moon-ray, 

And,  mingling  with  my  loved  one's  dream, 

At  gleam 
Of  dawn,  fade  from  her  sight  away. 


(9) 


i 


ONLY 

T  was  only  a  rose, 

And  who  would  suppose 
That  he  lived  on  its  perfume  for  many  a  day. 


It  was  only  a  smile, 
But  its  infinite  wile 

In  her  magical  manner  of  giving  it,  lay. 

He  was  only  a  boy, 
And  his  heart  was  a  toy 

For  her  highness  to  play  with,  then  cast  it  away. 


(10) 


GRANDMAMA'S   GIRLISH   GOWNS 

PALED  and  yellowed  by  time  are  they 
Even  Love  cannot  say  "  Nay." 
Old  and  faded,  once  new  and  gay, 
Bright  and  gay  in  a  far-off  day, 
When  Grandmama  was  a  girl,  they  say, 
Grandmama  now  so  worn  and  gray. 

Sweet  with  scents  of  the  damask  rose, 
Blossom's  fashion  comes  and  goes; 
And  their  perfume,  now  passe 
Was  well  liked  in  a  far-off  day, 
When  Grandmama  was  a  girl,  they  say, 

Grandmama  now  so  worn  and  gray. 

• 
On  the  daintiest  of  them  all, 

I  see  a  tear  that  she  let  fall. 

Grandpapa  kissed  the  rest  away, 

Far  away,  in  a  far-off  day, 
When  Grandmama  was  a  girl,  they  say, 
Grandmama  now  so  worn  and  gray. 

But  a  truce  to  these  musings  vain, 
In  their  cedar  chest  again 

All  the  dainty  gowns  I'll  lay; 

Memories  of  a  far-off  day 
When  Grandmama  was  a  girl,  they  say, 
Grandmama  now  so  worn  and  gray. 


TO    ROBERT    HERRICK 

SO  well  he  loved  the  Spring,  that  when  she  weaves 
Her  misty  bud-strewn  robe  of  tender  leaves, 

No  one  there  is  who  loves  him,  but  that  grieves 

He  is  not  here  to  see. 


(12) 


c 


THE   ANGLER 

UPID  upon  a  summer  day, 
Went  a-fishing,  so  they  say. 


He  wove  a  net  of  tender  wiles 
And  baited  it  with  merry  smiles. 

He  caught  a  rose,  he  caught  a  kiss. 
"  Alas  !"  cried  he,  "  I  something  miss  !' 

And,  trembling  with  a  sudden  fear, 
He  dropped  into  his  net  a  tear. 

Then  lo !  he  found  it  to  contain 
The  heart  that  he  had  longed  to  gain. 

Lovers  !  be  not  too  bold  and  gay, 
Sometimes  a  doubt  will  win  the  day. 


(13) 


T 


CONTRADICTION 

HE  March  winds  tossed  her  curls  about- 

She  only  gave  a  charming  pout; 
But  when,  with  gentlest  touch,  I  tried 
The  self-same  thing,  egad,  she  cried ! 


The  April  sunshine  kissed  her  cheek — 

She  only  smiled — she  did  not  speak. 
But  when,  made  bold  by  this,  I  tried 
The  self-same  thing,  egad,  she  cried ! 

And  when  in  May  I  asked  her  why 
She  acted  thus  in  days  gone  by, 

She  answered,  "  Sweetheart,  don't  you  know  ? 

It  was  because  I  loved  you  so  !  " 


(14) 


THE  RHYMSTER 

Y  thought  exhausts  itself  in  four, 

Or  eight  lines  at  the  most. 
Hence  I  affect  the  "  Triolet," 
The  Quatrain  and  the  Toast. 


M 


Tis  well  to  know  how  far  to  climb, 
How  deep  to  dip  one's  oars. 

And  though  you'll  ne'er  say  "  Genius  rare  ! 

I'll  not  be  classed  with  "  Bores." 


(15) 


A 


CLAIRE 

CLOUD  of  tulle  and  gems  and  flowers 
Whence  rose  a  neck  and  face  so  fair, 
I  wondered  if  all  Beauty's  dowers 
Were  not  enshrined  in  Claire  ! 


The  tiny  head  so  proudly  held, 

The  tiny  foot  upon  the  stair, 
My  heart  with  keenest  rapture  swelled 

To  first  behold  her  there. 

But  afterward  ?  A  sorry  Fate  ! 

To  join  that  ever- crowding  throng, 
Who,  lingering  in  torment,  wait, 

And  know  'twill  not  be  long 

Before  the  noble  prince  appears, 
Wooing,  triumphant  in  his  pride  ; 

When  I  shall  go,  half  blind  with  tears, 
To  see  Claire  made  his  bride. 

But  'tis  a  privilege  to  break 

One's  heart  for  her.    Perfection's  rare  ! 
So,  go  my  little  song,  and  take 

Another  heart  to  Claire. 


(16) 


CAPRICE 

WITH  humbly  folded  hands, 
The  tiny  Phyllis  stands, 
And  holds  her  cheek  to  let  me  kiss ; 
I  gently  take  my  fill,  for  this 
Is  sure  a  very  kindly  miss 
Of  six ! 

With  humbly  folded  hands 
I  kneel  while  Phyllis  stands  ; 
I  would  not  dare  to  beg  one  kiss, 
For  though  to  you,  strange  seemeth  this, 
I  love  her  more  than  that  kind  miss 
Of  six. 


(17) 


AQUATIC  COURTSHIP 

"I  1  TE  pull  together  well,"  he  cried. 

V  V      "  Yes,  Jack,  we  do,"  she  softly  sighed. 
"  Would  you  agree  to  face  life's  tide 

With  me  forever  at  your  side  ?  ' 
"  If  I  might  steer,"  she  quick  replied. 


(18) 


ST.  AUGUSTINE 

WHERE  was  Phyllis  all  the  while 
That  the  stormy  March  winds  blew  ? 
Free  her  tender  heart  from  guile, 
Honest,  brave,  and  true. 

But  she  parries,  with  a  smile, 

This  my  query — blushing  too — 
'  Oh,  'twas  many  a  weary  mile, 
Far  from  town — and  you  ! ' 

Harder  pressed,  if  know  I  must, 

Many  wonders  she  had  seen, 
Kneeling  awestruck  in  the  dust, 

To  St.  Augustine ! 

Phyllis,  this  will  never  do  ; 

If  you've  kept  the  Lenten  time 
Worshipping  a  saint  or  two 

In  a  southern  clime, 

It  is  nothing  to  conceal 

Or  to  cause  that  rosy  hue 
O'er  your  blushing  face  to  steal, 

Fill  your  eyes  with  dew. 

Was  the  saint  made  manifest  ? 

Did  you  walk  with  him,  perchance  ? 
Did  he  wait  on  your  behest, 

Hang  upon  your  glance  ? 

(19) 


And  when  sunset's  golden  rose 
Faded  from  the  fairy  scene, 

Did  you  feel  your  heart  unclose 
To  St.  Augustine  ? 

Well,  I  wish  him  joy.     I  may  ? 

Oh,  I  knew  it !  truly  blessed 
Was  the  saint  to  whom,  that  day, 

Phyllis  stood  confessed. 

For  your  romance,  sweet  and  fair, 
Lovelier  setting  could  not  be  ; 

May  your  saint  his  halo  wear  ; 
Would  that  I  were  he. 


(30) 


TWO  SONGS 

A    BIRD  sang  on  a  hawthorn  tree, 
"  Te  weet !  Te  weet !  Te  weet !  " 
And  one  who  listened  said,  in  glee, 

"  He  sings  that  life  is  sweet! " 
Another  groaned,  "  He  cries  to  me, 

•  Defeat !  Defeat !  Defeat ! '  " 
But  still  the  bird  sang  on  the  tree, 
"  Te  weet !  Te  weet !  Te  weet !  " 


(21) 


i 


IN  SLIPPERS  SMALL 

A  VILLANELLE 

N  slippers  small,  of  satin,  glistening  white, 

My  lady  knelt  before  the  altar  rail. 
And  promised  unto  me  her  solemn  plight. 


Her  charming  face  was  blanched,  but  not  with 

fright. 

A  loving  bride  does  not  her  fate  bewail, 
In  slippers  small,  of  satin,  glistening  white. 

What  fact  should  cause  her  other  than  delight, 
As  she  was  wed,  by  words  that  could  not  fail, 
And  promised  unto  me  her  solemn  plight  ? 

I  wondered  as  I  watched  her  all  bedight 

With  fragrant  purity,  why  she  grew  pale, 
In  slippers  small,  of  satin,  glistening  white. 

To  me  the  whole  world  looked  at  once  more  bright 
When  she  was  made  my  wife,  so  fair  and  frail, 
And  promised  unto  me  her  solemn  plight. 

But  quick  I  heard,  "  My  dainty  shoes  are  tight," 
And  knew  why  still  she  trembled  'neath  her  veil 

In  slippers  small,  of  satin,  glistening  white, 
And  promised  unto  me  her  solemn  plight. 


(22) 


WHERE  THE  CLOVER  BLOSSOMS  BLOW 

A   SONG 

WHERE  the  clover  blossoms  blow, 
Crimson-tipped,  and  white  as  snow, 
Stood  a  laughing  maid. 

Where  the  clover  blossoms  blow, 
Pouting  lips  said,  "  Go  !  Go  !  Go  !  " 
And  I  went,  dismayed. 

Where  the  clover  blossoms  blow, 
Turned  for  one  last  look  and,  lo  ! 
Saw,  though  half  afraid, 

Where  the  clover  blossoms  blow, 
Trembling  hands  which  beckoned,  so 
I  went  back — and  stayed  ! 


(23) 


EFFORT 

A  THOUSAND  tiny  billows  shine, 
Flecked  with  froth  of  bubbling  brine  ; 
A  thousand  tiny  billows  break 
Before  the  perfect  wave  shall  wake. 


ARTLESS  ART 

THEY  say,  to  write  a  triolet, 
One  must  be  very  wise; 
Well  versed  in  rules  that  chafe  and  fret, 
They  say,  to  write  a  triolet. 
I  strive  not  for  such  skill,  and  yet, 
I  almost  hold  the  prize, 

They  say  to  write  a  triolet 
One  must  be  very  wise. 


(25) 


THE   BRIDE   OF   THE   CHINESE   PRINCE 

A   RONDEL 

SUCH  a  prim  little  bride  for  the  Emperor's  heir; 
She  couldn't  have  been  much  over  four, 
But  solemnly  sat  on  the  inlaid  floor, 
Like  a  carven  figure  of  ivory  ware. 

• 

And  I  sadly  mused  "  What  is  held  in  store 
For  that  tiny  maiden,  joy  or  care  ?" 
Such  a  prim  little  bride  for  the  Emperor's  heir ; 
She  couldn't  have  been  much  over  four. 

There  were  golden  arrows  in  her  hair, 
Twisted  and  coiled  a  la  Pompadour ; 
Her  blue  silk  robe  was  'broidered  o'er 
With  fiery  dragons  and  blossoms  rare. 
Such  a  prim  little  bride  for  the  Emperor's  heir 
She  couldn't  have  been  much  over  four. 


T26) 


PEGASUS   IN    HARNESS 

MY  Pegasus  was  wont  to  soar 
In  very  lofty  flights  of  rhyme. 
With  him  I  hoped  to  reach  Fame's  door, 
Some  time 

I  met  a.  jolly  girl — Ah,  me  ! 

She  likes  this  more  than  "  dainty  maid," 
And  all  her  whimsies  now  must  be 
Obeyed. 

I  felt  'twas  love  with  me  at  sight, 
And  in  an  ode  told  all  my  joy, 
Sending  it  to  her  that  same  night 
By  boy. 

Twas  my  last  ode;  the  answer  came, 

Making  a  Paradise  of  Earth  ! 
But  she  treated  those  lines,  so  full  of  flame, 
With  mirth ! 

She  said,  "  Dear  Jack,  it's  yes ;  but,  dear, 

I  like  you  best  to  talk  in  prose, 
Though  to  anything,  I'd  say,  I  fear, 
It  goes. 

"  I  do  not  mind  a  joking  verse, 

But  nothing  that's  at  all  high-flown. 
It  always  makes  my  temper  worse, 
Your  own." 


(27) 


So  now,  my  Pegasus,  must  jig 

And  gambol  like  a  circus  horse, 
And  I — why  I  don't  care  a  fig — 
Of  course. 

• 
What  do  I  want  of  laurel  wreaths  ? 

Why  should  I  wish  and  strive  for  fame  ? 
• 

Tis  my  greatest  honor  when  she  breathes 
My  name ! 


(28) 


A  POET 

I  USED  to  be  an  honest  man, 
Before  I  took  to  rhyme  ; 
But  the  wide  poetic  license 

Will  enlarge  one's  views — in  time. 
I  used  to  think  I  would  not  part 

With  truth  for  any  pelf, 
But  now  the  lyre  of  which  I  sing 
Is,  frequently,  myself ! 

For  instance  this  I  write  :  "Oh,  Love, 

I  would  that  thou  wert  here, 
To  lay  thy  cool  hand  on  my  brow 

And  wipe  away  grief's  tear." 
Now  what  sheer  nonsense  all  that  is ; 

Great  heavens  !  as  if  I 
Would  let  my  love,  who  worships  met 

Behold  her  hero  cry  I 

And  then  again  I  pen  these  lines : 

"  A  crust  of  bread  and  fame 
Are  more  than  if  I  feasted  well, 

With  an  unnoted  name." 
Mere  fallacies  ;  Fame  in  these  days 

Is  not  content  with  bread, 
And  where's  the  hungry  bard  who'd  not 

Prefer  a  feast  instead  ? 


(29) 


Of  course  I'd  rather  stick  to  truth, 

Were  truth  and  verse  not  foes  ; 
So  what  we  poets  really  think 

The  public  seldom  knows. 
But  when  my  purse  is  very  plump, 

The  public  on  its  knees, 
To  crown  me  lion  of  an  hour, 

I'll  say  just  what  I  please  ! 


(30) 


MY  LADY'S  FAN 

i 

RONDEAU 

.  t ' 

MY  lady's  fan  waves  to  and  fro, 
And  with  its  perfumed  breath  doth  blow, 
All  painful  doubtings  from  my  mind, 
For  I  can  feel  her  smile  is  kind, 
The  gracious  motion  is  so  slow ! 
'Twas  but  a  little  while  ago 
(And  for  what  cause  I  do  not  know) 
A  frowning  face  was  hid  behind 
My  lady's  fan. 

I  hear  a  sob — adagio — 

And  haste  to  soothe  my  lady's  woe  ; 

I  thank  thee,  little  boy-god,  blind, 

That  I  such  tender  welcome  find, 
Behind  that  yielding  portico, 
My  lady's  fan ! 


(31) 


AN  IMPERFECT  NOTE 

DOROTHY  wrote  on  a  scented  sheet, 
With  a  golden  pen,  tipped  bright  with  pearl, 
And  her  writing  was  extremely  neat 
For  a  nineteenth  century  girl. 

Her  choice  of  language  was  clear  as  day, 
And  her  punctuation  bold  and  black  ; 

"  Now,  what,"  I  think  I  hear  you  say, 
"  Did  Dorothy's  missive  lack  ? 


i  > 


Dorothy  knew,  when  she  penned  that  note, 
That  one  tiny  word  was  lacking  there, 

And,  as  a  substitute,  she  wrote 
A  word,  for  which  I  don't  care. 

I'll  tell  you,  perhaps  you'll  guess 

The  curious  truth — to  me  'twas  so — 

That  the  word  I  wished  to  see  was  "  Yes," 
And  the  word  I  saw  was  "  No  !  " 


(82) 


L 


A  SPANISH  IDYL 

UISITA,  Luisita, 

When  I  went  at  dusk  to  meet  her, 
Laid  in  my  hand  a  rosebud  and  on  my  lips  a 
kiss ; 


The  rose  was  very  sweet,  and  yet,  its  perfume 

seemed  amiss, 

For  the  kiss  was  far,  far  sweeter, 
Luisita !  Luisita ! 


(33) 


V 


ST.  CUPID 

LOVE  wore  a  very  reverent  guise, 
But  there  was  mischief  in  his  eyes. 

He  donned  the  surplice  and  the  bands, 
But  there  were  roses  in  his  hands. 

Said  I,  "  Tis  Goodness,  Saints  above  ! 
And  yet  how  much  he  looks  like  Love." 


(34) 


WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME? 

1  LOVED  a  girl ;  a  lovely  girl, 
Like  Herrick's  damsel ;  fair  was  she 
With  ruby  lips  and  "  teeth  of  pearl," 

Well  worthy  of  my  minstrelsy. 
And  here  I  note,  lest  you  forget, 

My  name  is  William,  some  say  "  Bill." 
Great  Shakespeare  bore  the  same,  and  yet, 
Only  to  hear  it  makes  me  ill. 

Ah  !  ever  since  one  fateful  day 

Its  noble  charms  began  to  pall, 
When,  armed  with  a  huge  bouquet, 

I  stood  and  trembled  in  her  hall. 
I  had  resolved  to  test  my  fate, 

And  what  'twould  be  I  could  not  guess, 
But  somehow  I  had  thought,  of  late, 

That  she  perhaps  would  tell  me  "  Yes." 

A  sound  of  weeping  caught  my  ear, 

I  knew  it  was  my  darling's  sob, 
And,  though  it  made  me  pale  to  hear, 

I  stayed  my  hand  upon  the  knob. 
Ye  Gods  !  My  throbbing  heart  stood  still, 

For  this  she  said,  without  a  doubt, 
"  I  know  that  I  have  lost  my  Bill, 

The  Bill  I  cannot  do  without !  " 


(35) 


Enough  !  I  rushed  unto  her  side, 

Crying,  "  Look  up  !  Oh,  maiden  sweet, 
I  still  am  yours  "  (with  lover's  pride). 

"  Behold,  your  Bill  is  at  your  feet !  " 
With  eyes  amazed  she  viewed  me  o'er, 

"  It's  a  five  dollar  note  !  and  please," 
Said  she,  "  It  isn't  on  the  floor. 

You'd  better  get  up  off  your  knees." 


(36) 


THE  ADVOCATE 

IN  cap  and  gown,  Love  pleads  unto  me, 
That  I  may  alter  the  degree, 
Which  sentences  an  erring  knight, 
To  go  forever  from  my  sight ; 
It  seems  he  would  a  prisoner  be. 

Love  pleads,  "  Thou  must  not  set  him  free, 
For  he  well  likes  captivity." 

I'  faith,  Love  proves  him  most  contrite, 
In  cap  and  gown. 

'  Sir  Knight,  when  on  thy  bended  knee, 
Thou  provest  I  am  dear  to  thee, 
I'd  feared  another  story,  quite, 
And  so,  my  haughty  words  despite, 
Thank  Love,  for  he  has  won  the  plea," 
In  cap  and  gown. 


137) 


TO  F.  E.  C. 

A   TRIOLET 

LIKE  birds  that  gently  light  and  fly, 
Each  breathing  forth  a  joyous  song, 
Her  numbered  years  are  flitting  by, 
Like  birds  that  gently  light  and  fly. 
Unto  the  higher,  brighter  sky 

They  wing  their  peaceful  way  along, 
Like  birds  that  gently  light  and  fly, 
Each  breathing  forth  a  joyous  song. 


(38) 


THE  FAIR  BLOSSOM 

SHE  loved  them  all  so  well 
She  could  not  tell 

Which  flower  she  thought  most  fair. 
"  The  Lily  and  the  Rose 
Such  sweets  disclose, 
To  choose  I  do  not  dare." 

The  violet's  purple  bloom 
And  faint  perfume 

Held  her  within  their  thrall. 
"  Which  one,  of  all  that  blow, 
I  do  not  know, 

Woe's  me  !  I  love  them  all." 

She  looked  into  the  glass, 
She  saw  a  lass 

Most  pleasing  to  the  view  ; 
"  And  who  is  this  fair  maid  ?  " 
I  am  afraid 

The  fairest  flower  she  knew. 

For  neck  and  brow  were  white 
As  lilies,  quite, 

Her  cheeks  rose  pinks  and  reds, 
And  from  her  mouth,  red-lipped, 
Such  fragrance  slipped, 

The  violets  hung  their  heads. 


(39) 


THE  LITTLE  RHYMSTER 

IT  was  the  little  rhymster's  boast, 
A  solitude  he  fail  would  seek, 
An  eyre  on  some  rock-bound  coast, 
To  hear  the  mighty  billows  speak 
The  thundrous  story ;  "  Then,"  said  he, 

"  My  pen  should  chronicle  a  mind 
As  wild  and  stormy  as  the  sea, 

Free  and  tempestuous  as  the  wind  ! ' 

But  lest  this  happy  dream  should  ne'er 

Be  realized,  he  wrote  each  week 
Lines  to  fair  "  Julia's  Lock  of  Hair. 

Her  dainty  glove  and  peachy  cheek; ' 
And  at  the  yearly  holidays 

The  saddened  critics  always  found 
A  tiny  Volume  of  his  lays 

In  white  and  gold,  octavo,  bound. 


(40) 


A    RECOLLECTION 

SHE  was  the  very  fairest  maid 
That  e'er  mine  eyes  had  chanced  to  see 

(I  had  not  then  seen  much) , 
And  at  the  organ  sat  and  played 

Mendelssohn's  Wedding  March  to  me 

(She  had  a  lovely  touch) . 
It  was  a  sweet,  suggestive  air. 

The  village  church,  save  just  we  two 

(The  maiden  fair  and  me) , 
Was  quite  deserted ;  she  was  fair, 
And  I,  well,  what  was  I  to  do  ? 

(Just  wait  and  you  will  see) 
I  did  it !    Now,  perhaps,  you'll  guess 
"  Undoubtedly  he  begged  a  kiss 

(Perhaps  for  three  or  four) 
And  asked  the  maid  his  life  to  bless, 
To  make  it  one  long  dream  of  bliss" 

(A  paradise  and  more). 
All  wrong;  for  this  was  years  ago, 
And  I  had  broken  some  small  rule 

My  teacher  disobeyed, 
And,  for  a  penalty,  must  blow 
The  organ  bellows,  after  school 

While  teacher  sang  and  played. 


(41) 


TO    PHYLLIS 
(whom  I  won,  by  feigning  friendship) 

CUPID  played  at  dominoes 
He  laid  no  counters  out  in  rows, 
Yet  won  the  game.     In  such  a  way 
He  tries  to  win  one,  every  day. 
He  wore  a  mask  of  deepest  black, 
A  hooded  cloak  upon  his  back, 

And  when  my  Phyllis  passed  that  way, 
He  cried,  "  I'm  Friendship,  prithee  stay, 

"  Stay,  and  fold  me  to  thy  breast." 
Cupid,  it  was  a  cruel  jest, 
That  when,  within  her  tender  arms, 
(As  Friendship  causing  no  alarms) 
You  plunged  your  feathered  shaft  so  deep 
She  ne'er  can  lull  the  pain  to  sleep. 
A  cruel  jest,  but  ah,  how  sweet, 
That  I,  once  captive  at  her  feet, 
Her  willing  slave,  am,  by  your  art, 
Made  king  and  master  of  her  heart  ! 


AURORA 

HER  airy  robe,  half  mist,  half  light, 
Is  jeweled  o'er  with  rainbow  dew  ; 
Her  eyes  reflect  the  midnight's  blue, 
Her  locks  the  sun-ray's  bright. 

She  lingers,  watching  as  she  stands, 

Diana  in  her  silver  boat, 

Across  the  cloud- waves,  fading,  float, 
Waving  her  pallid  hands. 

Then  turns,  a  rose  glow  on  her  face, 
To  feel  Apollo's  burning  kiss,     r 
But  one  brief  moment's  perfect  bliss, 

Then  he,  too,  vanishes  through  space. 


(43) 


ONE  SUMMER  DAY 

I   KNELT  by  Phyllis  while  she  played 
On  such  a  summer  day  as  this ; 
An  hour  we  lingered  in  the  shade — 
How  music  doth  our  cares  dismiss ! 

While  o'er  the  strings  her  fingers  strayed 
Who  broke  the  chord  once  with  a  kiss  ? 

I  knelt  by  Phyllis  while  "she  played 
On  such  a  summer  day  as  this. 

Though  ne'er  again  "  Loves  Serenade  ' 
Shall  sound  within  my  heart's  abyss, 

And  Hope  is  dead,  with  Youth's  brief  bliss ; 
I  knelt  by  Phyllis  while  she  played 

On  such  a  summer  day  as  this. 


(44) 


THE  CHOICE  OF  PHYLLIS  LEE 

f  (  I F  all  my  lovers  in  a  row, 

Held  out  their  arms  to  me, 
Ah  !  which  to  choose  I  well  should  know," 
Said  bonny  Phyllis  Lee. 

"  If  Roger,  with  the  bold,  black  eyes, 

Fell  on  his  bended  knee, 
I'd  answer,  spite  of  all  his  cries, 
1  Nay,  lad,  I'm  not  for  thee.' 

"  And  Jack  or  Hal  their  cause  might  plead, 

But  neither's  could  I  be ; 
These  youths  are  goodly  youths,  indeed, 
But  still— I'm  Phyllis  Lee. 

"  Tls  one  who  ne'er  hath  talked  of  love, 

Who  from  my  thrall  seems  free, 
Who  holds  his  head  so  high  above 
My  own,  he  does  not  see 

"That  for  him,  in  a  sweet  accord 

My  heart  throbs  ecstasy, 
I  fain  would  greet  him  as  my  lord," 
Said  bonny  Phyllis  Lee. 


(45) 


LOVE'S  ROSE 

HE  watched  the  rose  of  Love  unfold 
Its  crimson  petals  'neath  his  gaze, 
Until  he  saw  the  heart  of  gold 
Which  could  illume  Life's  maze. 

He  felt  like  kneeling  to  this  flower, 
"  Too  pure,  too  sweet  it  is  for  me  !  ' 

But  still  it  made  a  happy  hour 
To  linger  near  and  see 

How  soft  two  bright  eyes  were  for  him  : 
How  quickly  beat  a  girlish  heart ; 

Alas  !  to  make  those  eyes  grow  dim 
Twould  be  a  coward's  part ! 

But,  tempted  sore,  he  plucked  the  rose 
And  bound  it  on  his  manly  brow, 

Where  still  it  breathes  perfume,  and  glows 
No  fairer  then  than  now. 


(46) 


JEFFERSON  AT  MONTICELLO 

BENEATH  the  window,  from  whence  he  beheld 
The  fairest  vista  in  Virginia  fair, 
A  rose-tree  trembles  in  the  summer  air, 
And  all  the  sense  of  happiness  that  welled 

Within  that  manly  heart,  I  strangely  share 
Illusion  which  I  would  not  have  dispelled. 

Again  with  Jefferson  I  sit  at  ease 

And  watch  the  sunlit  valley  from  the  hill ; 

I  hear  the  murmuring  wind  sigh  through  the  trees  ; 
"Friend,  though  this  man  wrought  deeds  both  good 

and  ill, 
Amidst  his  virtues  'twas  a  gracious  will 

That  placed  such  beauty  where  it  most  could  please." 


(47) 


, 


ERRATA 


On  page  37,  first  line,  for  "  unto 
read  "  with." 

On  page  40,  third  line,  for  ••  eyre 
read  "  eyrie." 


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